


The Blackest Sheep

by Girlaremo



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, Gender-Neutral Pronouns for Pidge | Katie Holt, Keith is not happy, Like really not happy Keith, Lotura - Freeform, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-30
Updated: 2018-01-21
Packaged: 2019-01-07 01:15:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 20,284
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12222762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Girlaremo/pseuds/Girlaremo
Summary: With Lotor's comet ship destroyed and his crew dead and gone, Lotor's been captured by the Voltron crew, and is suffering through injuries compromising to his form.  He's at the mercy of Allura and the others, and slowly, secrets that were once hidden under lock and key come spilling out about his history, and more importantly, things crawling under his skin.Can Allura truly trust someone who's been hiding behind a mask their whole life, or will Allura's trust be broken the moment she lets him past her particle barrier?  Or, will Lotor prove to be the blackest sheep of them all?





	1. Chapter 1

 It had all been such a rush. The sound of metal creaking and bellowing, the screams, the cries for help, the whoosh of the oxygen pushing past the microphones of the communications system. The sound of his blood in his veins, whooshing past his eardrums as everything went silent.

He knew he had idled there for too long. The moment he saw the maw of one of the lions coming for him, he had tried to whip his cruiser in the right direction, but it was too late. The mouth clamped down on his ship, the force it took to stop the ship pitched him forward, his head smashing against the console, cracking open his helmet. Already, he knew there was only so much oxygen in the cockpit, but he hadn't expected it to be so thin already. The hiss of air past his face, drawing forth hairs from the back of his helmet, along with the thick and iron-laden scent of blood. He could almost feel the bits of visor in his forehead, moving and cutting deeper as he breathed. Alarms and buzzers were going off, signaling that the engines were failing, and that there was too much damage taken to the ship itself. Looking over as he held the controls uselessly, he could see the face of Voltron, bright eyes unseeing and unyielding. This was already over.

Sounds had blurred together to the point where things were starting to feel like the red smudge on his forehead, dribbling down his face and landing in the bottom of the cracked helmet. The anxiety and dread that had pooled in his chest loosened but never truly pulled away, as the whole of him was dragged into the black fog that had slowly started to invade his vision.

As he faded out, there were three things he knew. He had failed. His crew was dead. And nobody was coming to save him.

 

… … … … …

 

The earliest memory he had was of when he was a child. He was raised by nursemaids, as his mother was too busy doing important 'Mum things', and his father stopped by often enough that his first words were 'papa' and 'love'. He remembered how he was told he said 'papa' in this little whispered voice whenever he'd see Zarkon at the end of the hall, all smiles.

He had remembered his little legs carrying himself along as he ran down the marbled hallway, his nursemaid following shortly after him, trying to scoop him up before he got too far. After all, they had always told him they were hiding. Hiding from what?

His whole world was small as it was. It was always his room, the play room, the library and the like. The people in his world were always the same. Same nursemaids, same tutor for his studies, and his father. His days usually ended the same, sleeping in a big bed alone, but sometimes, Zarkon would come along when he thought he was asleep, and up until he got to big to hold, he'd pick Lotor up and slowly rock him, back and forth.

That warm memory was what beckoned him to stay, but the rocking motion was what woke him in the end.

Opening his eyes, everything was stark white. Well, not everything. The ceiling was white, the floors were white, and the bedding around him was beige. The low lit accent lights were blue. Altean blue. Groaning in disgust, he raised his hands from the blankets, ignoring the pain as he dragged his hands down his face, pressing a finger or two against the sore spot on his temple, knowing full and well what happened.

They had taken on Voltron with the comet ship. Voltron had disabled their gun systems by hacking remotely into the mainframe. He had taken his own cruiser out to try and distract them from attacking the ship, trying to draw their attention away from the others. The new black paladin didn't fall for it. When their own weapons wouldn't work against it, they literally ripped the comet ship apart. He could hear the screams all over again, the sound of space swallowing them whole, the choking sound of bodies freezing in the cold, cold vacuum of space. He was the lone survivor.

The failure. He had failed to go down with his ship.

With the darkness of what had happened, Lotor somehow still managed to think of a plus. If he had returned home, Zarkon had been fully revived the last time he checked, quintessence literally bolstered into his veins. If he had gone home, Haggar would have surely tortured him and turned him into one of her monsters.

At least being on an ancient (by all standards) Altean ship wasn't so bad knowing that if it weren't for them, he'd be either dead or killed by Voltron.

The second problem with all of this was the fact that he couldn't actually see the fine details. Sure, he knew there were colors, but by now, his eyes would have focused. Blinking a couple times, slowly, he squeezed his eyes shut, opening them again to a still bleary world. Oh no. Maybe the silver lining was more pewter than he thought. Again, he covered his face with his hands, heaving out another heavy sigh. “Why me...?” He murmured, his voice hoarse from whatever yelling he had been doing, quite parched for the moment as well.

A quick glance told him that there was a little toilet set up with a sink with a water tap to it. The sink would fill up the reservoir for the toilet, thus saving water. The Alteans were always so Eco-friendly. That really helped their karma, didn't it?

Sitting upright, slowly but surely, the world didn't change. His eyes didn't clear, and now that he was vertical, his head swirled with vertigo. Almost lobbing himself forward, he grabbed onto the bed railing, eyes wide with concern for himself. He wasn't above crawling across the floor for water if that was what he needed to do, but he'd at least try walking for starters. Slowly pulling himself up, things proved to be a bit more difficult than he thought. Bruising had happened somewhere along the arrival to the holding cell he was in. His legs had gotten the worst of it, clattering around the cockpit, he was sure. The armor didn't really help that, now did it?

Hissing as weight was shifted between his feet (bare, may he add), and the loose clothes he had been thrown in hung off of him, too lean to fill out the clothing. Staring at the blurry shape of the water tap, Lotor shuffled his feet, hobbling a bit as he wobbled, reaching for something else he could hold on to before dizziness could take hold of him.

He was so close to the edge of the porcelain throne... Until his grip slipped and he ended up toppling to the floor anyways, catching his face in his arm as his skin slapped the ground. Groaning a bit heavily, his hair was out of place as he lifted his head and finally got to the point where he was half sitting on the toilet seat cover, half hanging off of the seat with his mouth pressed to the faucet while he haphazardly drank. Running the cool water helped to at least clear some of the dizziness.

How long had he been out? Was he really that dehydrated? Drinking as much as he did left his stomach full, and his breath heaving as he turned the faucet off, resting his forehead against the bowl of the sink.

“You're certainly not one for giving in, are you?”

The voice nearly caught him off guard, jolting a bit as she spoke, turning slowly over his shoulder to look at her with a brooding stare. He hadn't noticed her before. The smudge of her dark skin and the wisps of white hair that bled into the background were enough to tell him she wasn't one of the paladins. “Princess Allura's here to gift me with her presence. How wonderful.” Lotor replied, his tone partially soaked with venom. “I'm surprised you didn't take out your rage and kill me on the spot.”

“I was the one who wanted you alive. For questioning.” She stated, coming closer, allowing Lotor's vision to at least make out more details of her. She was still in her paladin armor. The bright pink against white shouldn't have been so easy to miss. Her eyes were blue. Pale, beautiful blue. Not bright like the accent lighting of the castle, but almost like the color of the morning sky blue of Daibazaal  She had pink beauty marks under her eyes. All Alteans had those. “I don't plan on killing you just because you won't answer my questions when it comes time. I'm not that cruel.” Allura sighed.

It almost made him want to spit at her. What about his crew, then? If she was a newly christened paladin of Voltron, why not capture his generals along with him? “I'm sure my generals would protest to that if they weren't dead.” He finally said, his own eyes glaring vaguely at hers. Slumping back to the floor by the toilet, Lotor rubbed his face again, still catching on the bandage, warranting another low hiss.

“You really took on a lot of damage back there.” Allura said firmly, her tone changing after Lotor's comment about his generals. “ Coran had a look over you at one point, and he says you might be concussed. Symptoms might include dizziness, nausea, vomiting...”

“Vision impairment?” Lotor asked, blinking a few more times to try and clear his vision. Her silence was suddenly irritating. Why wasn't she saying anything? “What, do you have to go through your medical encyclopedia? Does smacking your head against the console of a ship cause vision i—“

“Yes. It's a bit uncommon, but it could happen.” Allura cut him off, firmer this time. “You're lucky to be alive right now. I'm not saying you should be grateful for my mercy, but there's one paladin that would rather put your head on a pike than listen to you speak.” Allura hissed, getting more of Lotor's attention. Looking at her over his shoulder once again, he offered up a snake like smile, the corners of his mouth turning up.

“Go ahead. Blind or not, I could still easily take an arm off of him. That seems to be a returning theme for your black paladins, hm?” He cooed. He didn't personally know the black paladin before the new one had taken place, but he had heard rumors that the previous black paladin after Zarkon had been a ring fighter. He had a prosthesis, and he had lost his arm in the ring. It was a fitting taunt, and he was proud of it, as he should be, he reasoned.

Lotor could tell that Allura was biting her tongue, and that she too was trying to not be so snide, unlike him. “I'll keep in mind to keep you both away from each other.” Allura finally said, watching as Lotor's smirk faltered, and he turned away from her.

“What kind of questions were you thinking about asking? What the next plan of attack would be for the Galra Empire? Where would we strike next?” Lotor scoffed, shrugging his shoulders a bit. The full out dizziness was back, his eyes closing as he tilted his head back against the seat cover. No toilet bowl hair today. “I don't know much. I know a few access codes, which sanitation gear goes where, and which room is my father's. That's about it.” He said quietly. “Even you should have known I was a temporary figurehead ruler. I may have been trying to make a name for myself, but by now, that's gone up in smoke.”

The silence was back again, and Lotor sighed, opening his eyes to look up at the ceiling. Allura rubbed the back of her neck as she watched the other, the shuffling of her armor giving off the sound of movement. “When I have the time, I'll go ahead and get those from you, along with anything you know. I know it's not much, but as I said-"

“I'm at your mercy, I know.” Lotor groaned, finally turning himself around to lean his front end on the toilet seat, struggling to get himself up again. Low groans filled the air, muffled on Allura's side by the Plexiglas  “I'm useless to you, mind you. Send in your black paladin. I'm sure he'd love to use me as a knife rack.” He grumbled, baring his teeth as he managed to stand himself upright, only to wobble and make a couple ambling steps to the bed, catching the sheets in his hand, hanging haphazardly off of the mattress. Looking to Allura, Lotor's blue orbs caught Allura's, the yellowed scalera making them more intense. He had Galra eyes, he knew. Everything else about him looked Altean.

Allura could only stare at him for another moment, wondering how he had actually come around. Nobody knew about Lotor's existence, and even Coran seemed surprised at how Zarkon had a son. “I was going to say, we're not like the Galra. I'm not going to hurt you by any means. There's nothing to gain from killing you.” Allura sighed. It was painful watching him get into bed. For someone who had taken on a lot of damage, the Altean princess couldn't see too many bruises on his skin. It was strange, but maybe they didn't show. But with him having soft skin like herself...

“You're staring. Even without perfect vision, I can still feel your eyes on me.” Lotor huffed, quirking an eyebrow at her, watching her physically recoil as he curled up on the bedspread. “Don't worry, I'm not going to tell anyone.” He couldn't anyways. There was nobody let to tell as it was.

“I'll have Coran send down food for you. I don't know what you're used to eating, but I'll give you what we have available.” She said, nodding a bit to reassure her that this was okay. It was fine for her to be nice to him. There was no reason to be cruel and unusual.  She knew that in one instance, mercy was the thing that brought Altea down, but that didn't mean that she couldn't use it now.   Taking a heavy breath, Allura came closer to the glass wall, getting a closer look at the Galra prince.  "And at some point, we're going to have to take a better look at you.  If you're not showing bruises, that's worrying."   Allura said softly.  "I wasn't born yesterday, and I didn't study medicine for nothing."   She added, pulling herself away, watching how he stared at her form.  He wasn't too happy about the idea of actually getting re checked.  

"What, do you think I'm hiding bruises?"  Lotor huffed, rolling his eyes a bit too far, giving himself a bit of vertigo yet again.  Plopping his head back on the pillow, he groaned and covered his face, not liking the dizziness that brought forth more feelings of nausea.  Trying to shut it out with nausea, he could feel his body start to rock with the spinning feeling that his head was producing. "Honestly, that's the last thing I'd want to do right about now.  I've got nothing to lose, so a few little bumps and bruises wouldn't be the worst thing on me."  

Still, there was an air of unease Allura felt about the other.  She knew they were past the point of 'Snake' with Lotor--at least, that's what Hunk had said.  'Sometimes, you just know if someone's a snake.'.   Allura didn't get the reference, but it was the thought that counted.  "Still...If you have any pain, there's a call button, or there's mice around here.  If you need anything, I'm sure they'd tell me."  

"You're sounding more and more like a fairy tale princess by the moment.  Are you aware of that?"   Lotor peeked out from the blankets a bit, his eyes narrowed at her.  Nope.  Not any clearer.  Still, he couldn't help but to lean back once again, sighing heavily.  He knew better.  This wasn't any fairytale.  He'd probably be dead by morning, and no magic could bring him back after that.  At least, not in any good way.

"I've been aware... Just get some rest."   Allura couldn't help but to turn the corner of her mouth upward a bit, mulling over his accusation.  Fairytale princess, eh?  That wasn't the first time she had heard it, but it was the first time that it actually seemed to strike a chord.  

Lotor listened to her soft strides as she walked along, bleary eyes focused on nothing at all.  Being alone, he couldn't believe that he was the only one.  The only one out of all five to survive.  What if it were Zethrid?  She'd being the whole palace down on her own in revenge for her fallen comrades.  Axca would easily fight until death.  She was loyal, after all.  Ezor...She'd probably be the same, although when she hit her limit, she'd flee.  Regroup somewhere else.  Narti... there was no doubt in his mind that Narti would survive.  Her and Kova would rip everything to shreds.  

But why him?  The question sat at the back of his mind, oozing through his thoughts as sleep slowly swallowed him whole, dark warmth blacking out most thoughts he had sitting around.  

 

... ... ... 

 

 

"Do you really think he's given up?"  Keith was unsure how to take this.  His body language was closed off, after all.  Arms crossed against his chest, yet ready to spring at any moment.  "Already?"

"The dude's lost everything, Keith.  Don't you think you'd be a bit hopeless if--"  Lance was shushed by the look Keith gave him.  "Never mind then, yeesh..."

"Lance does have a point, though.  He's lost all around, and since Zarkon's up and running again like the weird zombie he is, I really don't think he's very welcome back at home."   Hunk shrugged, leaning against the back of the couch, while Pidge sat on the cushions.  

"Kolivan and the other Marmorans have been looking through the wreckage since Lotor got here, and there aren't any signs of life.  They've recovered the bodies found in the wreckage, but..."   Allura sighed, pulling her hair out of the intricate bun she had put it in for the recent battle.  "Space is unforgiving.  They're as far gone as they can be."  

"Yikes...And that's even with their armor on, right?"  Hunk grimaced, pursing his lips.  The thought of death by sudden freezing was quite literally a chilling thought..

"Nobody had time for masks.  I guess they were so sure that they were going to tear us apart before we did them."  Pidge explained.  "Like Allura said, space is unforgiving.  And cold.  Even a small tear in the suits we have could cause frostbite on contact with the lack of atmosphere.  Lotor only survived because we carried his ship in and not just him."

"He probably would have been an ice cube, too.  Or you know, at least a partial one." Lance shuddered, rubbing his arms.  "So, what's the plan with him?" 

"I'd grill him for answers.  He's got to know something about what's going on, and how Zarkon went from nearly dead to alive in such a short time."   Keith offered.  "If not, I can personally--"  

"You are not going in there."   Allura remarked, cutting him off with a slim finger pointed in his direction.  "He's in no condition to be manhandled by you.  And I know if you had your way, one of you would be walking out with a bloody nose."   Withdrawing her hand, Allura huffed lightly, looking to the others.  "He can't see properly.  The trauma to his head caused vision loss, and I don't know if he'll recover.  With him being concussed, he's unable to use the healing pod without threat of irreversible damage.  In that state, he wouldn't be useful to anyone." 

"And I'm sure in the meantime, he'd love to spill his beauty secrets or how he keeps his hair so long and flowing."   Lance was being a bit sarcastic for the moment, looking at Allura with a wide frown.  "I agree with Keith, though.  We should at least see what's going on with him and the main command center."   Ever since Shiro had been missing, Keith and Lance were starting to work together much more,  often tag-teaming in arguments as they started to see more eye to eye and balanced each other out.  

"It's not like he can do anything, right?"  Pidge shrugged, furrowing their brows as they looked around the room.  "I say we bide our time and at least let him heal up a bit before we do anything too extreme.  Stress with trauma isn't a good mix."   

"Yeah, no kidding...I had a cousin who got a concussion on my mom's wedding day.  Her and Angela nearly had a heart attack when he up and fainted."   Hunk said, looking around the room for a bit of approval from the others.  "What?  My cousin was the best man.  I mean...figuratively.  Either way, stress plus head injury is bad.  Very, very bad."   

"So what, we're just going easy on him?  I'm sure he wouldn't do that to us if it were the other way around."   Keith mumbled, rolling his eyes at the situation. "Either way, whatever Allura says goes.  It's not like we really needed to talk this over anyways."   He huffed, shrugging his shoulders as he walked off, Lance followed after him, a bit tense. 

"I'm sure he didn't mean that, Allura, I'll go make sure he doesn't do anything stupid."   He added, trying to shoot Allura a bit of a smile ,but it ended up slipping a bit at the end.  Lance meant well, but Keith needed to work some things out before he was happy with everything.  

Pidge sighed and pulled out their tablet, punching in a few numbers.  "I'll keep in touch with Kolivan and make sure they take care of the comet ship.  If anything, we could use the parts to modify the castle." 

"No kidding.  The cannon on that thing is absolutely nightmarish.  Imagine that being on the front of the castle--"   Hunk reveled in the idea, shuddering in the wake of the thought.  "I mean, we'd be using it for good anyways, so..."   He shrugged, following Pidge as they left the main hall.  

Allura followed suit, only to run into Coran as she left.  "Goodness-"   Coran neatly stood out of the way, mostly out of habit from his days with Alfor.  "Excuse me, Princess--I didn't see you coming."  He seemed to shuffle to compose himself, while Allura still held a bit of shock to her expression.  "I didn't startle you that much, did I?"  

"I hate to say it, but you were one of the last people I was expecting to see right now.  Is something wrong?"   She wouldn't have expected anything so soon about Lotor.  He didn't seem like he was in any hurry to get up and go, nor did the mice say much to her.  The only said that he was sleeping soundly, and everything was well.  

"Nope, nothing out of the ordinary.  I was more so looking for something that'd be a bit more edible to him.  After all, we really don't know what his composure needs.  He certainly seems a bit more Galra than Altean..."   Coran noted, tilting his head ever so slightly.  "But, I remembered all those times that we had Zarkon and the others over and all, so I went off of that.  And, well, old medical text books about all the known races."  Clearing his throat, he waved Allura along to follow after him, folding his arms behind his back as he walked.  "Galra actually require quite a bit of protein in their diet, as told by the sharper teeth used for gnashing, gnawing, and overall mutilation of protein sources.  We don't actually have anything fresh, and Alteans usually were more plant based eaters, so I've concocted up what seems to be a slurry of the protein base we use.  Just a bit of seasoning, and it'll look like pate.  Or...at least what Hunk said it looked like."   Looking back to Allura, he gave a bit of a sheepish look.  "Then again, he called it many things, but he said it was edible by any standard."

"It shouldn't matter what it looks like."  Allura tried to keep from rolling her eyes.  After what Keith had spurted out, she wasn't in the best mood.  "It's more nutrition than he'd be getting if he had fallen back into the hands of his father."  She could only imagine what he would have done if Lotor showed up back at central command.  She had only seen what a few prisoners aboard the ship had been treated like, not to mention how Takashi had been treated as well.  That was even worse.  

"Even if he's not on our side, and he's actually attacked us and almost killed all of you, that doesn't make him any less of a prince.  And right now, he's entitled to the best care we can give him.  Even if it's taking a bit of extra time to make sure a protein replacer doesn't look and smell like animal feed."  Coran said lightly, seeming to look for the other's expression to change.  "You too know that deep down, even if you don't want to, you need to treat him properly and not like how the Galra would treat him."  

"...I'll just have to kill him with kindness, because I know Keith won't."   She shook her head slowly, pursing her lips into a thin line.  "...Deny anyone other than you or I access to the holding cells.  Set up a barrier in the hallways with identification numbers if you have to.  I know it won't keep Pidge out if she wants to be in there, but it'd be a start."  

"Alright, Princess.  Consider it done."  Coran nodded.  "I'm glad you're taking a merciful hand at this.  Even after all that's happened.  Your father would be proud of you for acting so responsibly."   

Would he?  "Thank you, Coran."  Allura gave a bit of a half smile, while Coran had that endearing look on his face that he wore so well these days.  

It would have been easier to say that things were going to be simple from there on out.  If Allura would have known what would happen from then on out, she would have surely not taken in Lotor as it was.  If she would have known he'd turn her world upside down, she wouldn't have even touched him with a ten foot pole.  

But, she went on, unknowing, and unready for what lay ahead for all of them.


	2. Chapter 2

The attempt at food that they were giving him was at least something akin to something else that was edible.  Poking at the almost paté like lump on the plate, along with assorted greens from the chef of the castle, maybe it wasn't so bad.  Then again, he could taste the protein supplement powder that they had used along with the slightly bitter, nearly medicinal taste of the Altean food supplement.  All in all, it was rather disgusting, and the mice were having his fill rather than him.  Holding the plate down to them, he sighed heavily and watched them go.  "You're really enjoying that, aren't you?"   

 

While he didn't have the same connection to the mice as Allura, they did seem to have a sort of sympathy for Lotor.  Even if they did present as Allura's guard mice, it was a nice change to living a solitude life in a Altean holding cell.  He was starting to become aware of the fact that his vision was clearing a bit more, as well.  He could see things close up, and if he squinted a bit, he could see things farther away.  Not only that, but he could tell that his balance was getting better.  The only problem was that if he pushed himself too far, he'd start to wobble and his knees would buckle.  So, he listened to his body and let it tell him when it was time to stop.  

 

It had been the usual kind of day, but all of that was going to be flipped on its head.  The moment he heard footsteps, he stiffened up, holding the plate a bit tighter in his hand as he looked towards the door.  There Allura was, holding a case of some sort, and Coran stood near her.  He knew better than to assume that she was here for kind things.  She was perplexed as to why he wasn't bruising or didn't show injuries like a 'normal' being.  

 

"You look like you're doing better than a couple days ago."   Allura said kindly, her tone smothered in Urso honey.  "Do you mind if we pay you a visit?"   She hummed, tapping on the glass a couple times, as if she were kindly knocking.  "I want to make sure that you're not seriously hurt--I know you're a prince and all, but it's alright to admit you're hurt once in a while."   After all, bruised blood vessels should show up, no matter how deep the bruising.  Then again, the idea of hiding wounds was absurd.  

 

"Not to mention, I'm sure we could at least get you some pain medication to make sure you're alright and not hurting."   Coran added. 

 

They were waiting for permission, weren't they?  Sighing heavily, he raised his hand and waved the two in, not bothering to look at the door as the keypad outside pinged.  It was all the same tone, so there was no chance of listening to the sounds to discern what numbers they were using.  Even as they came in, Lotor put down the plate and let the mice have the rest of their fill.  "Then again, you'd probably come in anyways.  You tend to meddle in things that don't concern you."   

 

It was expected for Lotor to be grouchy and stiff.  After all, he was still in mourning, and Allura couldn't do much about that, even if she wanted to.  Pulling up a side table, she put down her case and opened it up.  "We may not be on the best terms, but your health concerns me."   Not to mention, she also wanted to know what he was like.  She had studied traditional medicine when she had the time, and honestly, the structures and bodies of those unlike herself were interesting to her.  Biology, the study of anatomy, almost dabbling into chemistry with those who had unstable forms.  There were always new things to discover, and what could and couldn't go wrong with the body--Doctoring someone back to health gave great satisfaction in the end as well.   

 

"I'm not concerned, though."   Lotor huffed, leaning back against the wall, watching Allura pull out a pair of gloves.  "...You're not touching me with those."   

 

Allura looked to Coran, who stopped in the middle of a sentence he was jotting down on his tablet.  "Would you rather her use different gloves?  The ones she has don't have any known allergens to them, so there's no chance that-"  

 

"You don't understand."   Lotor said lowly, looking between the two.  He could see Allura's perturbed expression and Coran's concern, and even though it was endearing, he still stood firm with his words.  "You're not touching me.  I don't want to be touched."  He said firmly, sighing deeply though his nose.  

 

Allura sighed and brought the heel of her hand to her forehead, knowing that she'd have to replace her gloves anyways at this point.  "Prince Lotor, you're such a..."  She didn't finish her sentence.  Pain, annoyance, petulant child, a monstrous toad.  "This needs to happen, though.  If you've got a cracked rib or something else is broken, I can't treat it, and therefore, you may die.  I can't clear you for a healing pod until I know and feel what's going on internally."    She explained, letting her hand flop a bit as she spoke.  "The humans all get an exam from me upon coming back so they're clear to use the healing facilities."

 

"I'm sure you love touching things, then.  There's plenty of other things that probably need touching, and not me."   Lotor hummed and tilted his head a bit, white hair shifting to the side and spilling over his face.  He could barely make out a sort of softer expression, but it could have been his eyes playing tricks on him.  "I bet you probably get a bit handsy with at least one.  I'd think a certain paladin enjoys being to-"  

 

"Stop."  Coran's tone cut the air, Lotor's jaw hung ever so slightly.  Snapping it back shut again, he tilted his head back, looking to Coran.  The carrot topped elder shook his head and sighed.  "Lotor, whether you like it or not, this has to happen.  I know you'll be uncomfortable, but it's for the better of your personal health.  I know living is probably the last thing you'd want to do right now, but we can't just let you die."   He said softly.  "All we're going to do is a short test of vitals, a small palpation exam so Allura can find if there's any deep damage, and then we'll get you clearance for the healing pod."  

 

Coran had a point, and Lotor knew it.  Everything would pass, and that was alright.  He'd do it, get it done, get it over with.  He kept his expression dissonant to the words the other said, finally lowering his head in defeat as he let out another sigh.  "You'd better keep it quick.  I don't want your hands on me longer than they need to be."   He nearly growled.  

 

"You don't know how much we appreciate it, though."   Coran reassured the other, marking down a few other things as Allura stripped her gloves, sanitized her hands and moved to get another pair.  "Plus, I think in the long run when you're all patched up and rearing to go, you'll be thankful."   He hummed, trying to give the other a smile, but it fell flat, along with the look on Lotor's face.  He wasn't happy, was he?  

 

Allura could see it too, pulling out her supplies as she set them on the bed.  A pressure cuff, a little device for checking heart rate and oxygen levels and thermometer.  All of them seemed to look like their Earth counterparts, just a bit more high tech.  Pressure cuff went around the arm and started inflating with a push of a button, the little finger sensor went on his index finger.  "Open your mouth for me, would you?  I need to get this under your tongue."   Allura told the other, holding the little thermometer out to him.  

 

Lotor huffed and opened his mouth and lifted his tongue, allowing her to insert the little stick end alongside his tongue, waiting for the instruments to get a good read.  "...I don't feel like a lab rat at all.   Astounding."   Lotor grumbled, holding the thermometer in place with one side of his mouth as he talked with the other.  

 

"Don't be so finicky...It's for your own good."   Allura hummed, checking the pulse indicator first.  "Normal heart rate, normal oxygen..."   She murmured, checking the pressure cuff next, furrowing her brows a bit.  "Blood pressure's a bit high,"   Taking the thermometer back next, she frowned a bit more as Lotor leaned back and stuck out his tongue.  Apparently something didn't taste right.  "You're running a slight fever...one hundred and one point nine."  

 

"Fantastic."  This only earned the prince another sour look from Allura.  Even so, he kept the sour look on his own face, pursing his lips into a thin line.  "So what, I have an  infection, or I'm ill...?"  

 

"I assume that it's from the wound on your forehead."   Allura noted, taking off the blood pressure cuff and the finger instrument before gently peeling back the bandage to his forehead.  Lotor furrowed his brow and tried to keep his disdain hidden, but the grunting sound he gave when the bandage pulled away from skin was too obvious to not hear.  Behind the bandage, there was, indeed infection.  Skin was inflamed, discolored, and the wound itself oozed what looked like infectious material.  "That's not good..."   She murmured, pulling the rest of it away.  

 

"If the infection spreads elsewhere, there's probably more we'd have to add to the healing pod..."   Coran murmured to Allura, snapping a picture of the wound as she pulled out a few things to clean it up. 

 

"I'm aware, Coran...I can safely say that there's at least a couple antiseptic and antibiotic injections I can administer before the healing pod..."   Cleaning the wound went without a word, using a syringe to squirt sterile saline into the wound, flushing it out well enough to get more debris out, along with a quick pick over with a pair of tiny forceps.  

 

"You're gentle."   Lotor finally said after a few quiet moments, his face in a scowl as Allura held his chin and pulled out bits of debris and necrotic tissue.    

 

"I know you're being sarcastic.  You've flinched a few times while I've been doing this.  I know it hurts, but I'm almost done."   She knew that he was just tolerating her.  That if they did any more than what they said, he'd be upset.  So, with most of what was in the wound taken out so that it wouldn't hurt him any longer, she smeared ointment on the wound and on the thick gauze pad she prepared, and taped down the wound with a bit of medical tape.  "That should numb it up well enough so that it doesn't hurt."   She told him, pulling off her gloves, sanitized her hands, and started replacing said gloves.  "I need you to take your shirt off and lay down for me."   

 

The look on Lotor's face as he stared the princess down was something along the lines of spiteful.   He didn't want to, and they all knew it.  Huffing loudly, he shook his head and tugged off his shirt over his head. There were a couple places where he slowed down and hesitated, giving the notion that he was indeed, sore.  Laying back just as slowly, he brought his arms above his head, in order to make himself feel less awkward.  "Don't be surprised if you don't find anything."   

 

"Oh, don't you worry.  I think I've already seen a few give aways."   She said lightly, glancing to Coran.  "Starting palpations..."   She started from the hips, feeling a few inches below his navel, making sure that there wasn't any bruising.  As she moved upwards, she could feel lean muscle with little to no fat around it, nothing too soft.  "Fantastic muscle structure..."  She said under her breath.  As soon as she got to his belly button, he started to tighten his jaw.  Taking that as a sign to ease up, she did so.  "Seems to be bruising around the navel, on both sides.  Center of the bruising seems to be on the right side of the trunk, moving left..."   Allura told Coran.  He was taking notes on what she was saying and feeling, making sure that there weren't any missing notes about Lotor's condition.  "Moving upwards, I can feel scarring on the ribs, but I see nothing..."   This was so strange to her.   "Sit upright for me?"   

 

Moving back upward when she withdrew her hands, Lotor huffed and brushed his hair back, looking up at her.  He hated this.  He felt like a pawn standing before a queen with her sword raised, ready to bring it down on his head.   Relaxing himself, she brought her hands back to his neck, feeling his shoulders and vertebrae, moving his head back and forth.  "What are you doing?" 

 

"Checking for whiplash.  You don't have anything broken...Then again, you're Galra.  You're a bit more durable."   She told him, closing her eyes for a moment as she cupped his jaw with both hands, feeling around for any more sore spots.  He had such nice facial structure... He may be the enemy, but by Altean standards, he had the carved cheekbones and jaw of a god.  "Nothing seems to be broken...Cheekbones are fine, jaw is fine..."   When her thumbs threateend to grace his orbital bones, a quick word brought her out of her thoughts.  

 

"Don't."    For a moment, he knew she could see that his eyes were just about the same shade as hers.  Altean blue, clear and bright, but his pupils were split with a feline pupil, much like all the Galra he grew up with.  Well, that was, until the Rift Calamity happened.  

 

"Is something sore there?"  She asked, touching lighter around the area where her thumbs had been inhibited.  Gasping when Lotor's hands flew up and caught hers by the wrists, holding them away from his face, curiosity started bubbling up in her.  Being curious about the world and universe around was good.  Being curious as to why people don't want others touching them isn't as sound a study.  "You don't look swollen at all--"  

 

"Then you shouldn't touch around there.  If nothing is wrong, you don't need to fix it."   Letting go of her wrists, he leaned back, crossing his arms in front of his chest, closing himself off from the other.  

 

Allura raised her hands and took a step back, shrugging her shoulders.  "Alright, then, consider the exam done.  Bruising on the trunk of the body, unseen injuries around the orbital bones."   The air in the room was tense.  Coran knew that she had something planned.  There was a glint in the princess' eyes, and only Coran could see it.  It wasn't a good glint, either.  

 

And just like that, Allura dove back in to Lotor's personal bubble, her hands cupping the prince's cheeks and pressing her fingers against the bones gently.  Nothing was broken, as he had said.  But in a brief moment of struggling, something changed immediately.  And, it brought Allura and her universe to a complete stop, even as she was pushed to the floor.   She skittered back, her eyes wide and heaving.  Coran didn't even have time to react, holding on to the tablet for dear life.    "You...You're..."   

 

What was in front of them almost didn't look like Prince Lotor.  The same Galra eyes, two blue orbs surrounded by yellow scalera, but what was different was the lack of purple hue of his skin.  The bright lilac had been replaced with tanned skin, much like Honerva's.  What had been hidden was now revealed.  Heavy bruising rested around his bellybutton, along his ribs.  More happened around his shoulders and neck, along with the heavy bruising above his eyebrow.  But, the wounds weren't what caught the two Alteans off guard.  

 

Lotor's body was littered with markings.  A bit more intricate than Allura's, but all the same.  They ran over his shoulders, down his neck, and every slight bend in the lines, there were small teardrop shapes that made the thinner lines look more elegant.  They danced around his hips, curled around his ankles, and along his spine.  And, like Allura and Coran, he had the marks below his eyes, lavender in color.  "I told you to stop."  He hissed, baring his teeth at her.  He didn't know what he was feeling, but overall, he felt violated.  His chest throbbed and his emotions were swirling around in his head.  The touch shouldn't have been as sensitive as it was.   He didn't even know half of the feelings he had in his head right at the moment.  

 

Allura swallowed and stared at him, her own chest clenching.  She, however, had known what she had done.  She touched his scela.  They were important marks, they were rumored to carry spiritual energy along the lines, and they had deep meaning to them.  Showing one's marks meant that you trusted someone, and letting others touch...that was something else entirely.  She almost didn't notice Coran move back and help her up, but when she was upright, she promptly took her gloves off.  "Y-You've got clearance for the healing pods."  She said sharply.  "This exam is over.  You're fine."   She huffed, balling up the gloves before throwing them to the ground, making a dash for the door.   

 

Lotor was baffled, yet still annoyed at how Allura assumed she could touch him, even when he had told her to stop.  Yet...He didn't understand the fear in her eyes as she looked at him.  He felt disgusting looking like this.  "You look like you've seen a ghost."   Lotor stated, pulling on his shirt with no problem, but he still struggled to hold a shift.  The purple blotches of him trying to shift back spattered his skin for a few moments before he gave up.  

 

Coran steeled himself as he picked up Allura's gloves and the medical supplies she left behind, discarding the gloves as he tucked his tablet under his arm.  He didn't know what to say.  "I apologize, Prince Lotor."   He said firmly, pursing his lips a bit, almost to be unseen under his mustache.  "As Allura said, you're well enough to use the healing pods at your leisure.  Early tomorrow morning, I can get you in at the soonest possible time, unless you'd like to wait."  

 

"I'll let you know when I'm ready."   At this point, Lotor was too pissed to even think about leaving his cell.  Pulling the blanket up over his shoulders and head, the mice climbed up the side of the bed and crawled under the sheets, searching for warmth after such a large meal.  "For now, leave me alone."   He said sharply.  Coran bowed politely and left him be, leaving him alone with the mice, whom pooled in his hands, looking for a reason as to why the prince was so...off.  

 

A few moments passed, the soft chitters of the mice kept the air busy.  Then after a bit of time, he took in a deep breath, shaking as he filled his lungs farther than he had in a long time.  "I don't like how I look right now."  He said softly.  "I look like them, don't I?"    Looking down at the beady eyes of the mice, he sighed.  "I look like my mother."   He said softly.  "I almost wish I had died with her.  Otherwise, this wouldn't happen.  Daibazaal would still be here, and my father would have agreed to close the rift." 

 

Then again, the memories of those days when Honerva had passed came thorough his mind.  He lost two parents that day, and he had to leave his home planet.  His nursmaids had said that they were only leaving for a little while.  They were going to stay with the Alteans for a little bit.  He struggled and cried against them, trying to get at least one last thing, one more memento of his home before it was gone forever.   

 

He remembered he stopped when he heard an unfamiliar voice, and his nursemaids had stopped in their tracks.  Looking to the doorway, there stood the Altean king.  He wasn't as tall as his father, but he still held that royal air to him that made Lotor freeze.  

 

'Please...don't be afraid.'  He had told Lotor.  It didn't take long for Lotor to crumble, holding out his arms as he was taken into the king's arms.  'You're safe now...I've got you...'  He remembered that gentle touch that he received, a thumb across the mark on his face.  It calmed him, oddly enough, much like his mother had done when he was much smaller.  Monstrous sobs turned into gasping cries, tears soaking into King Alfor's tunic.  

 

But just like that, the kindness vanished, and he was brought back into a new and terrifying world.  His father was a new being entirely, something that Lotor didn't recognize.  A witch took the place where his mother used to stand, bright yellow eyes bored a hole through his heart.  As he begged his father to not destroy Altea, as he pleaded for kindness, the act of mercy he wanted to carry out only bought him time in exile.  

 

The day Altea was destroyed, Lotor was brought into cryosleep.  It was painful, like needles jabbing into every centimeter of skin, everywhere was pain and cold, filling his veins and every inch of his being.  He'd wake up years later with tears crusted to his face, melting and falling as he slowly thawed as he came out of it, resuming the crying he had held for heavens knew how long.  There were a lot of new things to take in when it came to cryosleep.  New technology every time he woke up, new things to learn, new news to process.  It was all so strange and foreign every time he stepped out into the world.  

 

Eventually, he grew his hair long, he started learning how to fight and how to be a diplomat, years of neglect  and studying turned his words sharp and sour.  He learned that a silver tongue and a soft smile could bend anyone's will when it came to diplomacy.  He gained allies, he gained a family in the form of other 'misfits' that didn't belong to the empire.  He fought for them, and in the end, it didn't matter.  

 

In the end, it was all taken away from him, just like the first time he had been alienated from his own race.  In the end, Lotor was always destined to lose.


	3. Chapter 3

She couldn't get the look of his face out of her mind.  Days had slipped away, and she found herself in her loungewear, curled up under her blanket when Coran came by, dropping off another meal in order to exchange it for the old meal that had gone cold.  "I'm not hungry."   She said quietly, lifting up the sheet to look at Coran, whom instead, brought cake.  It was probably good, but she couldn't bring herself to eat.  Not until she apologized for herself.  

 

"I'm aware, but I've still got the notion to offer you something."   Coran sighed, setting the plate and the fancy dessert fork on the night stand.  "I thought I'd come to inform you that Lotor took up the offer to step into the healing pod.  I told him I could dim the glass so that it was hard to see him.  And...The Med Bay is off limits to anyone until he's fully healed."  He nodded.  "Albeit, for you.  You're still the doctor of the ship, technically."   He looked away for a moment, pursing his lips into a thin line.  "I do think you should apologize.  It'd be better for you, and for him, even if he doesn't want to accept it."   

 

Allura knew that.  Even if he said no, she still could say she'd try to make amends.  She didn't know he was...  "...I didn't expect him to be so Altean underneath all of that camouflage "   She said quietly.  "I...I knew there wasn't anything wrong with the orbital bones.  If they were broken or trauma had hit them, he'd have two black eyes, swollen shut--If not, I'd have to go in and repair them."   Allura walked herself through the troubleshooting method with her thoughts, finally bringing herself upright to rest the back of her hands against her eyes.  "...I acted like a child trying to play with a wounded animal."  She knew it was a bad analogy, but the way it stood, that was the scenario.  

 

Coran stayed quiet.  He knew that it was the truth as well.  "If you want to come with me to check wounds and see how well the pod has done, I'd suggest you go ahead and get dressed and bathed quickly.  You might not be the first person he wants to see, but it's better than letting yourself starve for the sake of trying to repent for what happened."   He offered, messing with one of the cuff links of his shirt.  

 

He had a point.  Bringing herself up a bit more, she brought herself to the side of the bed and out, her feet finally touching the floor after a couple of days of holing herself up.  "I'd better make sure the paladins know I'm alive as well...that can be done afterwards.  After all, I've got priorities, it seems."   She breathed.  It wouldn't take long to at least work her hair into a semi-clean state, and with a bit of hair oil would allow her to bring it into the usual hairstyle she put it in for flying, if not something else a bit more simpler.  A bit of perfume, clean clothes and a bit of powder, and she looked...  "I look hideous."   She mumbled to the mirror, bringing her hands to her face, absently rubbing her cheeks, narrowly avoiding her scela.  

 

It couldn't be helped, though.  She had to tend to him, even if she did look awful.  He'd probably go back to that bright lilac color, beings that he'd be able to hold a shift.  Pulling on a simple gown--a pale pink, like her mother's, she buttoned up the neck as she went along.  Alteans usually kept their markings hidden.  Only lovers bore their marks to each other, or close friends that trusted each other.  To bare their skin to someone else meant everything--Trust, love, friendship, an offer to spend the rest of their life with them...  The fact that she had seen his body on such terrible terms made her stomach twist more as she thought about it.  As soon as she came out of her dressing room, she looked at Coran with a stern expression.  "If you can, I'd like for you to find some clothing for him."   She said quickly.  "I know all we've got in storage is either costume or father's clothing, but even if he doesn't show, I want to make sure every scela marking is out of sight."   

 

"As you wish--"  The offer of clothing to hide everything would be looked at with an odd frown, but with the promise of protection for any other potential breech of the shift he took, it would probably be a peace of mind situation when offered to him.  "I'll see to it that he's offered and given the change of clothes." 

 

The walk to the med bay was something nerve wracking.  She could almost hear the whir of the healing pod as it cooled down to open, pushing her step so that she could get in, apologize, and leave.  She didn't want to see that angry face, nor did she want to watch him decline her offer.  She was being kind!  She was repenting!  He'd be grateful for that at least, right?   Picking up a robe from one of the shelves, she refolded it for a moment, like he'd notice every detail.  She had to make things right, after all.  

 

Right as she and Coran entered, the pod was in the last minute or so until it'd open.  He was slowly waking up.  As Coran stepped forward and adjusted the controls, he lightened the pod's glass, allowing her to see him again.  There was more color in his face, and the scela were brighter against the sun-kissed skin. Still, the guilt brought her from her thoughts when the glass finally lifted, and out came the first breath.  

 

Lotor knew that healing pods were fantastic, he had only used one once before this, and it was an old one.  This...It felt like waking up after a long sleep on the universe's softest feather bed.  The cold air he breathed out was wonderful, filling his lungs with sweet air, fully rested and absolutely pampered... Stepping out, his eyes were still closed, and the garb used in the healing pod still clung to his skin.  Opening his eyes, Allura was the first one he saw.  Staying quiet as she held out the robe to him, instead of allowing her to help him, he took the soft clothing item, and quickly shifted his skin tone back to what it was before.   Lilac bled from under the fabric of the healing pod suit and from the scela, until there was nothing but a sea of purple.  "Are you here to lay your hands on me?"   He sharply asked, holding himself with crossed arms.  He was closing himself off.  He was still upset.  

 

Allura couldn't help but to read between the lines, her heart and stomach twisting inside her.  She shouldn't feel so bad.  Putting on a stern face as she swallowed down the guilt and ill will.  "I wanted to apologize for what I did.  I should have backed down when you said something, and I didn't, which was absolutely unacceptable."  She said firmly, clenching her jaw as she watched his facial expression, unchanging and still cold and firm.  Not working.  Sighing lightly through her nose, she shook her head and bowed, formally to the other.  "I wish to be forgiven, especially given the circumstances.  It physically ails me to know that I've done something so rude and uncivilized."  

 

Coran looked between the two.  Lotor wasn't buying it.  At least it looked like he wasn't.  Those eyes were focused on her, judging her from every angle like god itself.  "What would you do for forgiveness?"  He asked, finally changing his stare by tilting his head ever so slightly.  "If you're truly bent on having me forgive you, I've got an idea."  

 

Looking up at the other from her bowed position, she straightened up a bit more when she saw his face.  That was promising, wasn't it?  "I'd personally move the down mattress in my room into yours if you so chose."   She said, pursing her lips for a moment. "And I could offer you proper clothing instead of the clothes we've given before."   Allura nodded, folding her hands in front of her as she spoke.  

 

"I was hoping for a shot at 'Anything', but I suppose-"

 

"I would do anything for forgiveness, though.  You don't understand how terribly I feel about what I did."  She didn't want to sound like she was coming off as needy, or pathetic, but her organs were still doing backflips in a spinning centrifuge.  "I know 'Anything' is a word that one shouldn't use with you, but in all honesty, that's what I'm trying to dance around and make a point."   She didn't like the cat like smile he was adopting, slowly moving past his lips as pearly white teeth peeked out.  

 

"Then you wouldn't mind if I made us both even, hm?"  As Lotor reached forward, Allura didn't even have much time to react, as Coran took all his strength into not pummeling the former prince.  His hands rested on either side of her face, rubbing the scela on either side of her wide blue eyes with his thumbs.  Sound was caught in her mouth, and she trembled like a leaf in the wind.   "How adorable..."   He said lowly, pressing a bit more, watching as the skin around his fingertips blushed.  He looked to Coran, whom was physically disturbed, pulling a wide scowl at the other.  "What? I'm just making things ev--!"  One lone fist flew through the air, past Lotor's arms and into his cheek.  Stumbling backwards, he held his cheek and looked at the assailant.  Allura, with her fist extended, and her other hand holding one side of her face as rage crossed her expression.  

 

"You're disgusting!"   She nearly yelled, her voice quivering.  Lotor himself absolutely astounded, having not expected such a solid punch to land on him, and at the same time, he almost looked afraid.  "That was not 'even'!  Nor would it even come close to being 'even'!"   Allura nearly howled, her face grew red with anger and rage.  She was absolutely inconsolable for the fact that Lotor had essentially called himself her lover in one gesture.  He jumped her boundaries, insulted her, and overall, was disgustingly rude with said gesture.  "Do you even know what you've essentially said?  Let alone what you've done?!"  She growled, watching as he recomposed himself.  

 

"I don't."  He had no clue what he had said or done.  He wasn't really too knowledgeable on Altean customs, as the race had been long gone for so long.  Even so, he only stared at her as the princess' chest heaved and she sputtered to respond.  "It can't be serious, though.  It's just a touch."

 

"I hate to inform you, but scela aren't things you should be messing around with."   Coran finally said, giving him a hard look as he held his own ground.  "You've pretty much insulted her, not to mention, you ultimately declared her your lover.  Which, is very, very disrespectful, rude, and overall frowned upon."   He explained.  

 

Lotor scoffed, curling his lip at the elder Altean.  "And?  You act like I tried to defile her."   Looking from either of them, he started to realize exactly what had happened.  "Oh."   

 

"Yes, 'Oh'."   Allura huffed in response, regaining some of her composure as she straightened herself out.  "What I did was an accident.  What you did, was intentional, and it was absolutely something that would be looked down upon.  It'd be the same as if I had gone into your father's kingdom, pushed him out of his throne, and declared myself king.  Or, let's get even closer to being 'personal'.  It'd be the same level of rudeness if I dragged the corpses of your crew in here and made them into furniture.  Stuffed pieces.  Nothing more than tacky taxidermy."   

 

Lotor's expression turned into a scowl, glaring at the princess once again.  "I get your point.  Nobody's going to throw people out of their thrones, nor are you going to even think about touching my crew."  Even if they were dead and gone, it was still a touchy subject to bring up defiling corpses.  "I apologize for my actions, and I forgive you for what you have done.  Do you forgive me?" 

 

There was a brief silence, and Allura cocked her head to the side, busting out a bright and wide smile.  "No."   She said quickly, giving her head a quick shake.  Lotor sputtered and Coran tried to bring up words to speak. 

 

"Princess, what are you doing?"   Coran hissed, glancing between the two.  "He apologized, I realize that you're still upset, but diplomacy--"  

 

"Diplomacy has nothing to do with it." Allura said, looking back at Lotor.  "He's not a prince, nor a diplomat anymore.  He's a lost  hermit in the debt of A pair of Alteans, four Earth-dwellers and a handful of space mice and many, many people who would love to tear apart a Galra ex-noble such as him.  Not to mention, the empire would most likely love to have their prince home."  She cooed, making Lotor stiffen up.  "That's right.  I'm in control, and I'll forgive you when I feel like it."  

 

It wasn't like her to be so sour and bitter as she was, but she was saving that first touch for someone special in her life.  It was only natural for her to want to make Lotor pay for what he did...right?  The ex-royal huffed loudly and shook his head, crossing his arms in front of his chest.  "Fine then, be that way.  You can only be so snide for so long."   He responded, narrowing her eyes at her.  The tables had turned, though.  Instead of Allura wanting approval from Lotor, Lotor wanted her to forgive him.  If it meant bending over backwards and becoming a model citizen, so be it.  She was the only ally he truly had at this point, and her approval was important.  Especially if he was going to get out of his cell at any point in time.  

 

Being ushered out of the medical bay by Coran, he looked over his shoulder as Allura shrank in the distance, leaving the two of them walking down the hall, footsteps breaking the silence.  "You've gotten yourself on her bad side.  You're going to be there for a while."   Coran said lightly, making no move to look at the other. 

 

"I think I'm very aware of that at this point."  Sounding a bit stiff in his words, he looked to Coran, not quite appreciating the silence between them.  "I didn't know about what it actually meant to do that.  I know nothing of Altean culture, and the only things I do know were from Honerva."   He said simply.  Stopping at his room, Coran plinked in the keypad code, looking to Lotor as he spoke.  

 

"Then I suppose you'd better learn quickly.  Otherwise, you're just going to be in here for a longer while.  But, at least you know now."   He said, waving Lotor in to stand behind the plexiglass door.  "Rule one: Don't ever touch another's scela.  Unless you're a parent or lover, or a very close friend, ask for permission before doing anything."   Coran stated, taking a step back.  "Modesty is also key.  I'll be bringing you down some clothing that would cover most of your markings, if not all.  Exposing too much skin isn't smiled upon, either."   And with that, Coran turned and walked off, leaving the prince alone once again.  

 

When the silence returned, Lotor flung himself onto his bed, sighing heavily.  "Alteans are so strange..."   He murmured, closing his eyes.  Maybe he'd learn something new on his new attempt at being a well respected individual once again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This update is coming pretty soon after the last update because I had the third chapter written out before I had the second one due to me thinking I updated (but I didn't.) So enjoy these over your weekend! Enjoy!


	4. Chapter 4

"Woah, what's got her in a mood?"   The way that Allura stormed through the castle, seemingly in an endless rage was something Lance had never seen before.  Sure, he had seen her walk off a battle, shaking out her arms and legs as she tried to recoil and bring herself back down to the castle, but this... 

 

"Jesus, she's on the warpath.  Could be shark week."   Pidge said, absently pointing a finger at Lance, whom had his mouth open to speak.  "Don't you dare say anything, you've seen me mensturating, and you know that that's enough blood to make a person crazy angry."   Lance's jaw snapped shut, leaving Pidge to smirk and plunk away on their phone.  

 

"Could be, but I feel like it's something else.  She's too active for that."  Hunk peered over the back of the couch, narrowing his eyes a bit.  "You think she's mad at one of us?  Maybe she lost her favorite...princess...space thing?"   Turning back around to the other three, Keith looked like he was a bit lost in thought.  "...You don't have a good idea as to what's going on, right?"  

 

"Hm?  What?  I wasn't listening."  Catching a glance at Allura, Keith's expression quickly turned to concern.  "I've never seen anyone that upset since Iverson got his beret blown off with an air cannon."  There was a look between the three, and Pidge was the first to let out a snort.  "You know who did it, don't you?" 

 

"Uh-Huh.  Classic."  One could only figure that the prankster behind the whole air cannon situation was Matt, but the thing was, nobody was able to rightfully convict him.  How he did it, only Pidge, Matt and Shiro would know.  "Either way, one thing's for certain, she's pissed."  

 

"Who do you think did it, then?"  Lance shrugged.  "You think it's because of who's locked up in the basement?"

 

"Don't call it the basement.  It makes it kinda creepy."  Keith had already mentioned he had a bad feeling about Lotor, but even Lance was picking up on it now, too.  "I mean, it could be, anyways." 

 

"You know, we could always ask."  Hunk had a point.  Shrugging his shoulders as a bit of a reassurance, he glanced over to Allura, who was still pacing.  "Hey, princess--What's got you all worked up?"

 

Allura's head whipped around fast enough that she could deflect a bullet with her stare.  Hunk honestly thought he wanted to eat his words back up the way she looked at him.  "Nothing.  Absolutely nothing."   She seethed, turning again before she stomped off into the next room.  

 

The yellow paladin mechanically turned his head back to the others.  All four of them looked like they had just seen her eyes roll in the back of her head and she spit flames at Hunk.  Hunk.  "Okay.  New plan.  Don't ask.  Just let her vent on her own."   He said quietly.  

 

"It's gotta be Lotor.  There's not too many people she has beef with, and he honestly seems to be the black sheep of the castle for the time being."  Lance offered up, trying to bring his thoughts to words.  

 

"Either way, it's between them both.  It's not like we're allowed to go down to the holding cells anyways.  It's off limits to us, and she's obviously not saying anything."   Keith sighed reluctantly, crossing his arms over his chest as he spoke.  "We know he's technically a menace, and there was that broadcast the other day about a kill on sight order from Zarkon."  

 

True, there was that.  Lotor didn't know about that, though.  He also didn't know there was a hefty bounty sitting on his head, too.  "Seriously, though.  The guy's probably got it rough.  It's probably lonely down there, on top of that."  Every one of them knew what it was like to be lonely, as a bit of silence fell across the four.  "Either way, with Allura and Coran being his only socializing, it's kinda sad, don't you think?"  Lance asked. 

 

Another silence, and Pidge was the first to speak.  "...This got really depressing really quick."

 

... .. ... .. ... 

 

Talking with the mice wasn't his first thought when it came to therapy.  For a while now, he was pacing around the cell, the soft sound of his feet hitting the tile and the seemingly worried squeaks of the mice as he walked.  "I didn't know.  How was I supposed to know?"   He ranted, tilting his head back as he walked, running his hands through his hair, pulled it up into a bun, and then dropped the long locks again.  Fidgeting with his hair was one of the things he did when he was upset, which, in all honesty, was one of the least princely things he could do.  

 

Coran had dropped off clothing earlier today, but he hadn't tried any of it on.  He just put the clothing items in the corner and stared at them for some time before leaving them be.  "I was raised Galra, and I didn't know that's why she got so offended."   Lotor huffed and looked at the mice, narrowing his eyes.  They were probably offering good advice, but he didn't speak Altean Doormouse.  "I really wish I could understand you."   

 

Still, thinking back to when she touched his markings, it almost felt like a jolt of energy.  Like leaning back into a massage chair and the nodes would hit a knot in his back, only it prickled his skin and made his hair stand on end.  It was fantastic, like a moment of pure clarity, but, at the same time, he hated the feeling.  It was like his soul was vibrating in his body, and he was vulnerable.  Like for one second, Allura could see right into his very being and pick out his flaws.  He hated that.   The Galra weren't always so closed off and self oriented.  He knew that before the fall, his people had packs, they had clans, they had litters of children at a time--They were big families, and they were always so close.  Then, slowly when he came in and out of the universe, he was learning that they were all drifting apart.  Like a fleet of crafts scattered over the cosmos.  It was awful.  

 

Raising his hands to his face, he shifted his face back to what should have been there, gently pressing his fingers against his scela.  There wasn't any sort of jolt, but it was comforting in some respect.  What had kickstarted that jolt?  Was it just static?  It made him curious, anxious, he needed closure.  He needed to know why that touch prompted him to return such an act.  With a loud groan, he picked up his pacing again, pulling his hair over his shoulder as he walked and braided the snowy locks.  "This is unbelievable.  A princess shouldn't make me feel like I'm supposed to be in the wrong.  I never learned what scela were, and even if I could, Alteans were long gone before I came around to it."   He huffed, combing his fingers through before he started again, working in a different braid.  

 

Ignorance wasn't a good answer to anything, and knowledge was power.  Sighing heavily, he brushed out his hair again after another braid, shaking his head slowly.  "...I need to learn about Alteans.  That's it.  Knowledge is a good way to remedy this.  I'll have to ask for books or something the next time someone comes down."   He murmured to himself, looking to the mice.  "Maybe you could pass a word along to the princess...?"   He asked, arching his eyebrow at the pastel colored mice.  

 

The mice themselves looked at each other, before giving a collective nod to the prince.  Crouching down and allowing them into his hands, Lotor made a deep sigh and and gathered his words.  "If you could at least tell her I'm sorry for what I've done, that'd be fantastic,"   He said, pursing his lips into a thin line.  "Mention that I don't know anything about Altean customs, and I had no idea what it meant for me to touch like that."   He almost regretted not knowing about Altean customs, but it wasn't like he had any time to really study it.  After all, he was only taught as his father's generals saw fit.  "I'd like to learn about Alteans, and if I'm going to be spending quite a bit of time down here, I might as well read up and study."   Lotor could only hope that they understood what he was saying, and would carry the messages properly.  Letting them down from his palms, the mice scurried off through the holes of the wall and down the hall.  "...I can't believe I'm putting my faith into the tiny paws of mice."  

 

Slumping back against the bed frame, Lotor looked to the ceiling with a loud huff.  He could only hope that the mice would deliver the message properly.  

 

Scurrying down the hall and into one of the air vents, the mice went along the best way they knew how.  Ducking past corners, making loops and finding their way after years of having lived on the ship in the first place.  Plopping onto Allura's bed from the air vent they popped out of, there was the princess, having moved from the common room to her room to vent her anger.  Looking among each other, the mice chirped, trying to get Allura's attention.  

 

It was like night switched to day, and Allura looked to the mice, crouching down and giving a bit of a worried look.  "I was wondering where you went off to...Where have you been all day?"  

 

"With the prince.  We have a message from him!"  Allura's face shifted to a wide frown, narrowing her eyes at them.  

 

"Oh?"  

 

"He's sorry.  Very, very sorry."  "Very sorry, yes!"  "He wants to learn about Alteans!"  "He didn't know about your love spots!"  The mice themselves had other words for things, and it was understandable--They were mice, after all.  Either way, Allura reeled back a bit at their statements.  "Why the look?"

 

"I'm still upset with him, that's why.  He did something to upset me, and I'm not ready to forgive him."   She huffed, turning away from the small rodents.  "I'm not ready to play nice with him, by any means."  

 

"But he's sorry!  He'd like books!  Books about Altea!"  

 

Allura's ear twitched in annoyance, something that rarely happened.  "What good will it do?  He'll just find other ways to offend me!"  Or, in a rational state of mind, he could learn about how to act and speak with Alteans.  That way, he could actually converse and look respectable...right?   Looking back with a bit of a stern look, she narrowed his eyes.  "...I'll have Coran bring some books down.  I'm not going down there, by any means.  I'll look like a hypocrite if I go down there and yell at him."   

 

Either way, a win was a win, wasn't it?  The mice were pleased with the answer, and hopped up and down on the comforter of the bed.  "Good, Princess!  Good!"  And, just like that, they were off again, scurrying back to their never-ending twists and turns of navigating the castle.  

 

This left Allura in a bit of a less sour mood.  Sure, she was quite happy that Lotor was willing to learn about her culture, and, by extension, his, but it still left a bitter taste in her mouth.  He had no reason to hurt, and he probably wanted to gain back her trust so that he'd have a chance to escape that prison he was in.  If he didn't get out sooner or later, he'd probably wither away and lose his mind.  She couldn't wait on Coran.  She had to be the bigger person here, even if that meant sizing herself up a bit.  

 

So, she started out grabbing a couple books off her own shelf, then strode to the library.  There were books of poems, books on the language, how they spoke, recipes, medicine, geography, how the North differed from the South, and the traditions and holidays they celebrated.  Crystal rites, the weather cycles, customs, and the biology and makeup of Alteans in general.  Hopefully, it'd be helpful to him.  

 

Slowly making her way down with the stack of books, Allura struggled to keep them stacked properly, punching in the code to lift the door just enough for her to get in.  The mice were back in his cell, sitting on his knees.  "Well, you've got my mice to like you."  She scoffed.  

 

Lotor himself was surprised to see Allura down here, especially after she said how much she hated him.  "It's a miracle, isn't it?  Apparently I'm likable to only the select few."   He offered, arching an eyebrow at him.  "You're not going to hit me with those books, are you?  I already took two beatings.  One verbal, and one blow to the face."   There was a bruise forming under his lilac skin, but for now, he wouldn't show that off.  "You've got quite the left hook."   

 

"I'm very aware."   She replied lowly, narrowing her eyes as she dropped the texts on the bed.  "These are for you to read.  Exercise your brain so it doesn't go to waste. Mind you, this isn't helping your situation at all.  I'm still rather upset with you, and I feel like I could vomit right here and now with how disgusted I am."   

 

"It's not an issue of modesty, is it?  I don't have any marks to show off.  Not at the moment."   He wasn't about to egg her on, but just to spite, he felt like he needed to.  "I would happily let you stare a bit more at the rolling lines of Altean scela for your own pleasure."   Offering up a bit of a devilish smirk, he watched as Allura's nostrils flared a bit and she scowled at him.  "What's the matter, Princess?  Are you losing your cool charm?"  

 

"You're awful.  Absolutely awful, you ignorant snatch!"  She growled, stomping her foot as she turned heel and ducked out of the room.  Hitting the keypad, the door slammed shut this time, making the floor tiles rattle.  "Stay in there and rot.  You're absolutely barbaric!"  She was hiding the fact that her face was red, but as soon as she was out of range, the whole flush came to her face and she covered her cheeks with her hands.  The fact that he offered to bare his body for her viewing pleasure was more than just a lewd comment.  

 

Baring one's skin was a trust thing.  It was intimate.  It was like trusting someone to do brain surgery, or to take care of something special--Like giving another one's heart to keep and hold.  Right now, Allura was the last person that Lotor should trust.  She hated his guts right now, and she knew that if she had the chance, and he said enough, she'd probably squish his heart and throw it at his feet.  Barbaric, sure.  But in a figurative sense, that was how she felt.  

 

Meanwhile, Lotor had brought himself off the floor and covered his face with his hands, letting the purple face fade.  "You idiot!"   He hissed, pacing back and forth.  "Why do you have to be such an ass?!"   The years of silver tongue speech and witty comments were getting to him.  She wasn't Galra, and she didn't deserve to be teased like that.  "You moron."   He told himself, pausing before he looked to the mice again.  "...I don't believe you'd be willing to apologize on my behalf again, would you?"   

 

There was a bit of deliberation between the mice, and it was met with a very 'ehhh' response of shrugged shoulders and flattened out ears.  Well, there went that.  Even so, with a loud huff, he went about picking up one of the books, glancing over the title.  Fairy tales.  Another read 'The Altean Physique: A Guide to Anatomy'.  Looking through the titles, she had taken the time to actually pick up books that would help him understand.  But, fairy tales seemed to be out of place.  He'd save that for later.  In the meantime, he picked up one and opened the book, pacing along as he read.  

 

 

.. ... .. .. ... 

 

_It was cold.  That was all he could feel.  The prickling sensation in his fingertips, the pain that it brought, and the numbing of his nose and ears.  He was sure he was going to lose them.  His stomach churned with whatever they had used to bolster into his veins to keep him stable, and soon enough, it all came out as he doubled over from the cryo pod.  The first breath was always the hardest._

 

_Heaving loudly as he tried to breathe properly, it was like hell.  He couldn't breathe, it was hard to stand up straight--He felt like he was dying.  Painful, painful, painful.  People were around him, trying to soothe and comfort him.  Other defectors, sympathizers of the Altean race, and some Alteans that had escaped the massacre and pretended to be Galra.  "My Prince, it's going to be okay...Breathe, please--"_

 

_His body shuddered and shook as air finally penetrated his lungs, and his body registered that he was cold.  All at once, he let out a choked sob, breaking into a full out bawl as pain continued to prickle his skin.  Everything was so numb, everything was painful.  And, being as young as he was, it was even worse because it had no reserve to just take the discomfort.  Tears were still freezing on his face as someone picked him up and held him close to their chest, rubbing circles into his back as they draped a blanket over his shoulders._

 

_"It's going to be okay, the pain will pass..."  Broken sobs filled the air as the other exiled people came around to watch Lotor come out of stasis.  It was almost as bad as when they watched him go back in for the second time.  It was easy to understand why Zarkon had chose to exile him in this way.  It was cold, isolating.  No contact, no familiarity.  There were things to be thrown up after, and that gnawing pain that the cold pressed into all of his nerves was torturous._

 

_He knew that in a year's time, he'd have to go back in, as per the orders of his father.  How someone could have become so cruel and unrelenting was beyond him, but he quickly realized that it was his own fault for getting himself into this situation.  If he hadn't argued for the sparing of Altea, he wouldn't be here, he wouldn't be dislocated from his family, and he would have had a place at the throne with his father._

 

_If anything else, he wouldn't have hurt so much._


	5. Chapter 5

The days were dragging by like wet fingers on glass.  Dribbling by, and leaving behind wet prints where he had been.  So far, it was still just him, pacing along the length of his room as he read, taking up information like a sponge, and letting it dry and flake onto his brain and in his thoughts like gold leaf.  He was learning quite a bit.  For example: Altea was the home of biomedical technology--the healing pod, the stasis function of the castle ship, they were the pioneers of memory augmentation to help with trauma and healing faster.  Lotor couldn't help but to roll his eyes at that one.  That seemed to be something that backfired.  

 

Known for their fine wines and Lurite mines to make everything from tableware to synthetic bone structures, they were set on making the universe a better place, it seemed.    Sure, the weather and geological landmarks were a bit hostile, not to mention the wildlife was downright terrifying, but otherwise, it explained quite a bit about how Allura was a terrifyingly strong warrior in a some ways.  

 

When it came to etiquette, there were things that were...for lack of better terms, confusing.  The scela for example: The pigmented markings that showed up on the skin of Alteans, or those with Altean blood in their veins, were sacred.  They were not to be touched, and they should be covered, save for those on the face, hands and feet.  Family members could touch with permission, as could lovers or close friends.  Strangers were out of the question.  

 

There was quite a bit of folklore about why Alteans had said markings.  Some said it was the flow of the life force, Ora, flowing through their bodies and leaving marks.  Some said that the future could be told by how the scela flowed and ebbed across the skin.  It was like Galra rune reading--spending all that time looking at tea leaves and reading palms seemed to be wasted in just the same way in Altean culture.  

 

Cuisine was...something else.  They took a bit from everywhere, but to start, they cooked with what they had.  Bitter wines, sour foods, pickled fruit...There wasn't much to eat on Altea until the interspace travel was introduced.  Then, it got a bit better.  In short, Alteans could cook, but not on their own.  It was a culinary disaster, leading to a misplaced finger or something in someone's food.  

 

The more and more he read, the more his head started to hurt, and he started going through all the books that seemed to be trivial and boring.  It was mindboggling as to how rich the culture was, and what fantastic art they created, the structures, architectures, beliefs, religion, sex-- he felt like information was pouring out of his ears for god's sake.  With a pile of read books on one side of the room, he glanced over the spines that were lined up in a stack against the wall.  

 

Snapping the book shut, he paused in the middle of the floor and slouched backwards with a loud groan.  "I feel like I'm dying down here."   Straightening out his posture and slouching forward, he was surprised at how comfortable Altean clothing was.  Sure, it was a long sleeve shirt and similar pants, but it 'covered' everything.  ('Covered' in the sense of he was still shifting to the bright Galra color he usually wore, on top of the modest clothing.)  Hobbling back to the stack of books, he put the last one on top, looking at the titles with a deep set groan.  Now he had nothing.  

 

Everything in his fiber wanted something to do, something to explore.   Most likely, it was cabin fever.  It was going to drive him up the wall and down the other if he wasn't able to do something other than milling around the room like a caged animal.  Wandering to the clear door, he paced down one side, looking down the hall as far as he could, he paced down to the other side of the door, looking as far as he could down the other way.  Nobody.  

 

He wasn't hungry, so mealtime wasn't coming yet, and with regular meals, he would know if he was hungry or not.   If anything else, he had started to put on a bit of weight.  No more gaunt-looking skeleton-figured prince.  If anything else, it brought a bit of life back into his eyes, as told by the reflection in the glass door.  The mice were also nowhere to be seen, which was something else that wasn't too comforting to him.  They weren't sleeping in his bed, under the pillow as they usually did, nor were they peeking out from the air vent.  

 

Lotor's sanity seemed to be slipping through his fingers day by day now.  Groaning loudly, he looked at the wide holes of the clear window, narrowing his eyes a bit.  He remembered watching Coran's hand move dozens of times when they checked up on him, and maybe, just maybe, he'd be able to sneak out.  So, leaning close to the far left side, he stuck his arm through and felt around for the keypad.  Finding that, he thought for a moment, pursing his lips as he tried to remember the movement.  "Left, right, down two, up, up..."   Access Denied.  

 

Huffing loudly, he tried again, punching in the buttons.  It was starting to make him wonder why they had such wide gaps in the glass?  Either way, he plinked in the numbers for a third time and the gate started lifting, giving him time to snake his arm out of the gap.  The castle sounded quiet.  It was...interesting.  At the same time, he felt like he was exploring something for the first time.  Slowly taking steps forward, he eased himself out into the hallway, looked up and down the halls, and then slowly headed for what looked like the stairs.  

 

Catching sight of the clock, he knew that it was far too early for anyone to be awake.  3am.  Nobody would want to be awake at this time, save for those who can't sleep or wouldn't sleep.  Including a stir-crazy Lotor with too much energy on his hands.  He suddenly realized how his hair was awfully greasy, and it started to clump together at some point.  Not to mention, the treatment to straighten his hair was starting to fall out of place, leaving soft waves and kinks where the hair elastic had been.  Turning back quickly to his 'room', he grabbed some clothes in his arms and quickly headed up the stairs, hoping to find at least some sort of bath room or wash station where he could finally clean himself.  

 

The lower level of the castle, up above the holding cells, was dark, and most likely for storage.  Going up another level, there was a well neglected ball room, and a couple more, and... Bingo.  A very vacant servants quarters, where he knew would be at least some sort of bath room.  The halls were dim, having not been used for a while.  There was a decent layer of dust on the floor, as nobody seemed to even think about cleaning this floor.  Then again, nobody used it.  

 

His feet left spots where the dust had tracked up on the soles of his shoes, moccasin-looking things that didn't provide much support.  Looking at the arched ceiling of the hallway, he could almost hear the sounds of music from the abandoned ballroom, and the chatter of people moving around.  History had a strange way of looming over people like a thick blanket.  Trapping in all the old smells and colors, feelings that oozed from the walls and floors.  

 

Like that faint smell that he knew--aged spices and creamy soaps that were used to clean clothing.  Stopping in the hall, he took a deep breath and let it out.  This was familiar.  He almost felt like... He was home.  He knew it wasn't the case, but it was familiar, none the less.  A quick look on the faded plaque read that he was at the servant's bath area.  A hot scrub was calling his name, even if it meant using old soaps and concentrated hair oils.  

 

From there, he dropped his clothes on a dusty stool and looked over the faucets.  Altean baths.  One for cleaning, another for soaking, and showers for if there wasn't enough time.  He could easily just take a long shower in hot water.  That wouldn't be too awful.  The shower heads were a bit rusted around the edges, and one of the pipes on another stall had actually burst at the base, and the shutoff valve had been put into place, dripping steadily to the floor, leaving behind rust trails to the drain.  

 

Turning on the water for a bit before he stepped in, relaxed his chameleon skin and pulled off his clothing and folded it, looking over himself in the fogged over mirror.  To look at himself for too long was hard.  Especially if he let himself rest for a bit.  He could see every scar.  His arms were littered with them due to rigorous training regimes.  A few others littered his body, as far and few as they were at some points, they were still there.  Reminders of the fights he had fought.  

 

As the mirror fogged over, he sighed and grabbed a neglected bar of soap from the counter and took it into the hot water with him.  The hot water truly was a blessing in disguise.  Wetting down his hair in one motion, he smoothed it back and knew that in the water, it'd be a silvery grey color compared to the stark white it usually was.  He'd eventually have soft waves when it air dried, he knew.  Days of grime seemed to slide off, along with the extra oils on his face.  The smell of the creamy soap filled the air as it came in contact with water.  Lavish as it was, he knew that the best was probably saved for the nobles and royals.  Well, that wasn't quite him anymore, but he had always had worse.  

 

Taking a minute to just stand there under the water until he felt his muscles relax, taking the first step and lathered up the soap bar and washed his hair.  It'd be a while before he could get all the oils out, and even some would be fine.  Just enough to take the edge off.  Satisfied with that, he moved on to wash his body, working his way down from his shoulders, down to his ankles, and then back up, rinsing in between.  

 

It wasn't hard to notice that some things were a bit more sensitive.  The delicate lines over his skin.  And as he washed his face, he found himself pausing for a moment with his fingertips running along the orbital bones of his face.  Soft.  Different.  It made his stomach drop and his heart jump into his throat.  It warranted emotions that started to bubble up through his chest and to his cheeks.  Scela... They were important, weren't they?  Shaking himself out of the moment, he finished up his shower and located a couple towels to dry himself off.  One for hair, another for his body.  But first, wiping off the mirror and looking for any other imperfections.  He had been stressed, after all, and the healing pods worked miracles, but they didn't clear blemishes. "If I were more Galra, I wouldn't have to look at these..."   He murmured, wishing that he at least had something to poke at the blemishes with.  (Even if he knew that he shouldn't mess with them.)  With himself in front of the mirror while dressing, Lotor watched himself.  

 

Taller than most Alteans by just a hair, sacred white hair of the Alteans, scela that would have been praised for being so thin and intricate... but the eyes and ears were what threw it off.  His were more close to his head, perfect for helmets and space travel.  If anything else, they were a bit longer than Altean ears.  (He was just lucky Honerva wasn't a southern Altean so that her ears drooped almost parallel to her eyes...)  Yellowed Galra eyes gave the advantage for walking around in the dark light of Daibazaal, and in comparison, his irises weren't quite Altean blue.  

 

Too Altean for Galra people; Too Galra for the Alteans.  What a jigsaw of a prince.  Pulling on the last article of clothing, he straightened up the collar of the shirt and took down his hair, combing it out with his fingers before putting the hair elastic around his wrist.  It hung in damp clumps due to his finger combing, and it was already starting to wave.  They'd probably notice that he was out of his cell sooner or later.  "Might as well go back."   He murmured, wadding up the discarded clothing and towels, dropping it in the laundry chute.  If the open cell door wasn't enough of a clue, the clothing and towels, would have been more.  

 

Even still, leaving the bath room brought him a bit of a hollow feeling.  He needed something new to explore.  Maybe they had books and texts on this ship?  Maybe at least a tablet with games on it or something... instead of going back to the lift, he pursed his lips and took a left, wandering down the hall a bit further.  All the rooms seemed to be the same.  Four beds, neatly made with pressed sheets an a layer of dust over them, minimal personal belongings, and flickering holo-pictures of families that lived on the ship with the royals.  

 

And, oddly enough, he remembered glimpses of some of those faces.  Living with the servants in the bottom deck for a while before he was abruptly taken back by his father.  They were long gone, now.  Not a trace of them existed anymore, save for the photos and their imprints in the mattresses.  

 

The servant's quarters had a dining hall, much like the upper levels, and there was also a kitchen, social area, and broom closet where the cleaning supplies were.  Faded bottles and old jars of what seemed like oil polish lined the shelves, but nothing of use to him (Unless he wanted to make some chemical concoction that might burn through the floor.).  Much like the healing pods, the food storage system kept everything fresh.  Which, it was mostly the food supplement that was also served upstairs.  That, and a few old bottles of wine.  Which... That would probably be quite nice if anyone brought some up.  Ten thousand years was probably more than enough time to age, especially in an Altean refrigerator.  

 

Wandering along the endless halls, Lotor felt himself finally tire.  The warmth had faded from his body, and he knew that his hair was more than dry enough to at least lay down on it without it tangling into a wiry mess.  So, finding his way back to the lift, he started on his journey back down to the holding cell.  The clocks said that it was finally six in the morning.  Had he really been wandering around for two hours?  Maybe he had.  Leaning back against the wall of the lift, he closed his eyes and let the machine do its work.  But, as soon as the doors opened to the holding cells, there was one slight problem.  

 

Coran was waiting for him.  There was a brief moment where his heart jumped into his throat and slipped back down again as he swallowed dryly.  The royal advisor didn't look pleased, with his expression set into a mild scowl.  Where there was silence, there was tension, and Coran was the first to break that.  "Did you enjoy your walk?"  Even the tone of his voice brought Lotor to realizing that there was no way he could smart talk his way out of it.  There was no room to be a smartass.  

 

"I had every intention of coming back, I promise you that."   Lotor finally said, pursing his lips as he bowed his head in dismay.  "I didn't mean to betray your trust by any means."  The sound of Coran tapping his fingers against his arm made him purse his lips into a tighter line.  He was trying to apologize, more so in the Altean manner.  He wouldn't full out fall to his knees and plead for forgiveness.  Well, at least not yet.  "I needed some time out, and I...I was losing my mind in there.  I'm...I'm sorry.  Please forgive me."  Lifting his head to look at Coran again, he was surprised to see a more forgiving expression on his face.

 

"I wasn't planning on punishing you.  The fact that you just bathed and walked around proved that you don't have foul intent."  Coran shrugged, shifting his weight as he lightened up.  "I'm surprised you took that long to break out.  You're tolerant.  I do think now's the time to think about giving better accommodations now that you've proved yourself."  

 

So...the solitude was a test?  Of course it was.  They were wary of him to start, so why not? Resisting the urge to roll his eyes in annoyance, he drew out a heavy sigh and shook his head.  "If it would have sped things up, I should have tried sooner."   He murmured.  "What does Allura think of this?" 

 

"She's...indifferent.  She's still upset about what happened when you came out of the healing pod.  I'm not too happy about it either, but there was a bit of ignorance to the situation.  I can't be too upset that you didn't know, after all." 

 

"So, I'm free to roam within reason, correct?" 

 

"That's correct.  But, I'll be keeping an eye on you.  After all, that's my job."  

 

Even with the watchful eye of Coran on him, it was a good feeling to have.  Freedom.  It felt wonderful.


	6. Chapter 6

Lotor found his favorite places rather quickly after being released from the dungeon.  Training room, the library, and his own room.  Sure, he was getting acclimated to a new life, but he still felt more like a pet.  So, he stared listening in on the paladin's meetings, making sure that he gave his own two cents about how the Galra acted and such, all to Allura's disdain.  She still looked at him like he was vermin, narrowing her eyes at him as he spoke.  He was trying to get on her good side, he really was.  But, she was still upset.  

 

After one particularly unsuccessful meeting, Lotor had plopped himself on the lounge couch, pulling up a book from the digital portion of the library.  Soon enough, one of the paladins came along to talk.  "Don't get too worked up about Allura targeting you.  She did the same thing to Keith.  And he didn't even do anything."   Lance, the former Blue paladin, seemed to be one of the more friendly and accepting of the group.  He seemed to be the favorite of the new black paladin as it was, and made up for his leader's rash behaviors.  "She'll come around, and it won't be so bad."  

 

"Who's to say I'm trying to get on her good side?"  Lotor arched an eyebrow and kept pretending to read, flipping through pages of old text.  They were on spiritual rites, and how to tell if one was a potential priest or priestess for sacred rites.  "I'm grateful to be alive, but I'm not here to woo her."  Oops.  A bit of a slip on his part.  "I'm here to make allies, not find someone to coddle me and tell me that I've been wronged."  He corrected, casting a wary look to Lance.  

 

"Sure, sure, I get it..."   Lance nodded, leaning back into the cushions with a bit of a light smile.  "But if you're really wanting to make allies, I know for certain that Allura is a sucker for good manners and formal wear.  It's an Altean thing.  They really like their fancy clothes and to take care of themselves.  To be honest..."  Lance squinted.  "You're a bit rough for wear.  The Galra really don't take care of themselves, do they?"

 

"It's not really important to us.  We project ourselves as warriors, not diplomats.  ...I'm at least a partial exception, though.  I seem to think a little different from my father."   He murmured the last bit under his breath, sighing heavily.   He could still feel Lance's eyes on him, and couldn't help but to narrow his eyes and stare at him.  "What are you looking at me like _that_ for?"  

 

"I'm thinking that maybe we need to update your look a bit.  If you're at least a little bit of a diplomat, you have to look it."  Lance hummed, reaching over to shoo away the novel and attempted to pull Lotor up off the couch.  "I'm not the best one to coach about how to deal with Altean women, but I can at least coach you to get on her better side." 

 

"I've already read the books about it.  That should be enough, right?"   He huffed at the other, using his weight to keep himself on the cushions.  

 

"Uh, no.  You've got to _apply_ it.  Come on, you can't be _that_ out of touch, can you?"  Another look from Lotor gave Lance the sinking feeling that he was a bit out of touch.  After all, the Galra empire presented themselves with power, not looks.  "Alright, so maybe you are.  But, I'm here to take care of that.  Call me...Your tutor.  An Etiquette Expert."

 

"How can I trust that you're qualified for this?"  Having been pulled up, it was rather evident that he had almost a foot in height on the paladin.  He had reason to doubt.  

 

"Please.  I've got one grandma who raised me in a Catholic church, and the other was a partial Southern Belle.  If I didn't walk a certain way or talk a certain way, I heard about it for _months_.  I think I've got decent enough experience."   He hummed, giving the other a quick smile.  "First thing's first, you need a hair cut, and a day at the spa.  I think I've got the right stuff to get you looking a bit less ragged."

 

Still, he was a bit dubious of Lance's claims, he followed after him like someone following an overly excited puppy.  And from there, it began.  Sitting on Lance's bed, Lotor found himself looking at all the little knick knacks that Lance had gained, including, and not limited to, photos that he had printed out and pinned to the wall, rocks and other items from planets he had picked up, trinkets, little machines made out of what looked to be stiff wire.  Watching him pull out multiple other bottles and containers, he could almost swallow down nervousness that was creeping up his throat.  "What's all that for?" 

 

"Your face.  Alteans value a clear complexion, and therefore, they used to be notorious for skin care and taking care of themselves.  Picking up the universal language of the universe with the help of 'Pidgey-Translate', I've got plenty of stuff that I've spent money on or had gifted to me.  Some of the things I liked, others not so much."  He shrugged, putting the items on the bed with the clatter of plastic bottles and little glass containers clinking against each other.  "Alright, what's your skin like?"  

 

"It's complicated, that's for sure."   He murmured under his breath, rolling his eyes at the question. 

 

"You don't look dry and oily..."   Lance murmured, leaning in to look at the other.  "You're a bit...dull, though.  It kinda looks like..."   Pausing for a moment, he pursed his lips and drew back a bit.  "That's not your real shade."  

 

"And how do _you_ know?"  Lotor was a bit too sharp for anyone to really deny that he was being defensive, and he didn't like the look that was plastered across Lance's face.  "Stop that." 

 

"What?   _This_?"   He gestured to his own smug expression, the smile spreading a bit further.  "If you wanna look your best, you've got to stop hiding.  Whatever's underneath that has to be at least somewhat charming, right?  It can't be _that_ bad."  Wiggling his finger at the other, he crossed his arms.  "Self confidence is also rather attractive."  

 

"Is it now?"   The Galra prince huffed, not able to shake off Lance's oppressive stare.  (Okay, maybe it wasn't so oppressive, but more...watchful?  Constant?)  Either way, he sighed and ran his hands through his hair, muttering to himself.  "I can't believe I'm doing this..."   And slowly, he let his cover up fade and goosebumps rose to his skin as he relaxed.  It felt nice to relaxed, and not so tense after holding up a guise for so long.  Opening his eyes, he scowled at Lance's new expression.  "It's not _that_ great, don't look at me like that."  

 

"No, it's...It's really..."   He tried to pick up words, pressing folded hands to his lips and pointed his fingertips at him.  "This fits your personality a bit more.   _This_ suits you."   Lance explained, looking over the other's complexion again.  "You are a bit dry, though.  That's to be expected, though.  You haven't really taken care of yourself, hunh?" 

 

"Well, I really couldn't.  Exile means you can't have the luxurious things in life."   He sighed, watching as the other picked up a couple of bottles and looked them over.  "Plus, like you said, the Galra really don't dress up and present themselves as diplomats."   Lotor watched as he pulled out what looked like a fresh facial brush and some sort of cleanser.  

 

"Alright.  First part of Altean self care.  You wash your face.  Exfoliate gently every day, or every other day as needed."  Dropping the little brush and cleanser in his lap, he picked up another item.  "Next comes a toner, which evens out dark spots...And a serum.  You need a bit of a glow and some love to your under eyes, so there's that..."   Rummaging through a bit more, there was a jar of moisturizer, and a sort of...refreshing spray?  "Moisturizer on top, and then rosewater.  At least...that's what I think it is.  It smells good and it keeps everything set when you sleep at night."   He added, dropping those too into Lotor's lap.  "And that's just the minimal.  Well...I mean, for your face."  

 

"There's _more_?"  Already, he was regretting the help that Lance was giving him, but at the same time, he wanted to make amends.  Even if that did mean learning even more about his mother's culture and cultivating a new look that was a bit more...Friendly.   Either way, he was still a Galra Prince, no matter what anyone said. He carried the lineage in his blood, after all.  

 

"We're just getting started.  How do you feel about a quick hair cut and a manicure?"  

 

... ... ... ... 

 

To say that Lotor enjoyed being pampered was a bit of an understatement.  Sure, he had been sort of neglected all his life, and he didn't know the true 'finer things' and 'simple pleasures', but damn, he was enjoying himself.  As Lance was trimming up his hair with a towel around Lotor's shoulders, Lotor couldn't stop feeling his face.  "It's...so soft..."  He murmured, running his fingertips over his cheeks and jaw.  

 

Lance was honestly quite happy that Lotor was taking well to this whole 'treatment' as it was, and that he could actually take care of someone.  Not everyone really needed a haircut so often, and Keith...Keith wouldn't sit down this long and let Lance pamper him as it was.  He was lucky to get him in a chair for at least ten minutes while he took the scissors to the dead and split ends of his hair.  "Yeah, that's how it's supposed to feel.  That is, when you take care of yourself."   He hummed lightly, running his hands through the other's hair.  With a deep condition and some TLC, Lotor's hair actually had a small bit of wave to it.  Nothing like Lance's unruly hair when it was wet, or Allura's tight ringlets when she did her hair all nice, but just enough to make it known that it was all natural at this point.  No straightening, no nothing.  "You should be good to go, though.  Just let your hair air dry, and it's fine."

 

"You put quite a bit of product in my hair.  It almost feels heavy."  He mused, running his hands through.  It was just as soft as his face... The ends weren't tangled and rough, and... Looking in the mirror, he looked a little less Galra and a bit more Altean.  The eyes were a constant, though.  He had his father's eyes, after all.  

 

"It's also a bit damp yet, so that'll add on to it."  Lance took the towel from his shoulders and dusted him off, shaking some of the damp clumps from his shirt.  He was lucky to have kept all his skill from high school.  If he couldn't have gotten into the Garrison, he surely would have ran a salon in Beverly Hills.  "If you're not ready to go out with your full face, that's fine.  I mean, you're not hiding anymore."  

 

Looking himself over, he knew that Lance had seen enough to tell that he was soft in the middle.  There was a part of him that was aching for acceptance and he was about ready to bend over backwards to try and get it. It was more so left over from the years of trying to get back on his father's good side.  He didn't want to be punished for not being good enough.  Not ever again.  "It's...it's fine.  It's not like the rest of your team haven't seen Alteans before..."  

 

"Well, you're kind of the outlier here."  Lance admitted sheepishly, pulling off the smock shirt he had used and brushed off the one underneath.  "You go ahead and put on the outfit we agreed on, and we'll go see what everyone thinks."   He hummed, shooing the other off so that he could clean up the bits of hair on the floor.  Honestly, he was so pleased with the outcome and how open Lotor had been.  

 

"You're sure that they won't react negatively?"  

 

Furrowing his brows, Lance shrugged his shoulders and rolled his eyes.  "Hunk had to shake hands with a gelatinous being that almost ate his hand.  I think you'll be one of the lesser evils here."   

 

"You realize that at one point, I tried to kill you all, right?"  

 

"And now you're a menace to the Galra Empire and you have a kill on sight order on your shoulders.  I think we're even."  Although Lance's logic was a bit off, there really was that one large driving point in that theory.  "Plus, you're not really an enemy anymore.  If you had other plans, you would have acted on 'em anyways."  He added, shooing the other off to get dressed.  He wasn't going to tell Lotor that Allura was going to be having a diplomatic meeting, or that there were others coming in to the castle for a meeting about the coalition and the search for Takashi.  This would be just as much of a surprise to Allura and the others as it was Lotor.

 

Undressing and redressing in the bath room, Lotor had another moment to look himself over.  Pursing his lips at some of the more fading bruises and the scars that had been left behind, he couldn't help but to sigh.  The markings and the scars wouldn't be seen, but he still felt bare without armor.  Nothing to hide behind, nothing to shield him.  Then again, it wasn't often that anyone landed a hit on him, but still.  First came the modesty garments, stockings, hand guards to keep the markings on the tops of his hands covered.  On top of that, there was a loose tunic that was simple, poofy at the sleeves (and a bit outdated), the bottom was tucked into breeches, and the bottoms of the breeches tucked into boots.  Already, this was more elaborate than what he was used to.  Daibazaal had simple clothing that for those who weren't in battle, had one purpose on the planet: Warmth.  Be it warm robes or thermal wear, it was simple, easy to put on armor over, or to take off.  

 

Finishing off with a deep royal purple vest with a bit of gold embroidery along the bottom hem and the shoulders, it was only fine tuning from there.  Buttoning up the collar of the tunic shirt to hide his markings, brushing his hair back as to not insult Allura for being too decorated... And that in itself was the full outfit.  "I feel like I'm going to a circus.  In fact, I feel like I'm the main attraction."   He huffed, looking himself over for another moment.  "You don't think this is too purple?"  

 

"It hints at the scela.  Brings it all together.  Otherwise, you'd just be a mess of white and grey boots.  Plus, we're working with what we got.  You're a bit of a cooler palate mix than Allura."  

 

"And that means...?"  

 

"It's art stuff.  Just..."   Lance sighed, having put on his armor in the meantime.  Lotor didn't like the look of that.  Why was he putting on his armor?  Lance caught on to that, looking down at himself.  "Forgot to mention: You're attending a meeting today.  Sorry for throwing you in."   Plus, he had told the others about Lotor's appearance. Something new, he said.  But, Coran and Allura were both in the dark.  

 

" _What_."  His eyes nearly bulged out of his head, staring at the paladin.  " _Are you out of your mind_?  I _can't_ go to a diplomatic meeting!  You realize how many most likely abhor my _guts_?"   Lotor bore his teeth, his color shifted back to deep purple, and claws seemed to pop out in addition to the color change.  "I'm _not qualified_ to go out there.  Not like _this_."  

 

"What happened to putting your best foot forward?!  I didn't spent three hours on you just to say you're not attending!  Plus, if you want to get off of Allura's Shit List, you've got to act like a damn _prince_.  Not the little _asshole_ you've been."   Lance huffed in response, trying to pretend to be the bigger man here.  "Now you turn yourself back and march out there like you're royalty.  Not like a damn barbarian."   

 

Rolling his eyes at Lance's instructions, he seethed for a moment as he dragged his hands down his face and groaned.  "You're going to be the end of me.  I'm taking advice from a human, and I'm putting my faith in his puny hands."  

 

"Damn straight you are."   Lance puffed out his chest and brought his shoulders back, expecting the other to do the same.  If worse came to worse, he could always lie.  There were plenty of people who looked at least a little Altean.  Then again, his facial structure would probably give him away.  Lotor's face was pretty recognizable.  "You ready?"  

 

"I'm about as prepared as a three legged equarian stallion at the races."  He grumbled, straightening himself up and pulling back his shoulders.  The last bit of purple faded from his fingertips and the claws seemed to pull back a bit easier now.  Taking a deep breath, the door in front of him swooshed open, and soon enough, they were both walking down the corridor.  The sound of people met his ears, but he kept his hands folded behind his back, trying to fake the confidence he had.  "Here goes nothing."  

 

... ... ... ... ...

 

Holding off guests in the absence of the current red paladin, Allura was a bit more on edge than usual.  There were so many different problems that could happen, and the fact that Lotor could pop up at any point put her even more on edge.  Wearing her paladin armor, it was already bad enough that she felt under-dressed.  Coran was helping with distractions, chatting up the others as the last paladin arrived.  " _Lance_."   Allura hissed, giving him a heavy look,glancing from him to the other paladins.  " _Where were you?"_

 

"I had a bit of a bit of a wardrobe malfunction."  Lance hummed, glancing back to the doorway.  "It's fixed, though."  Not a moment too soon, Lotor came through the doorway, and Allura feigned a smile, her eyes wide.  The room went a bit silent as all eyes went to him, making Lotor feel a bit uncomfortable.  All those faces...The Marmorans were there, the Xoli, Luranites, the Loi-Loi and Faro tribes of Siras.  

 

Taking a deep breath, Lotor bowed graciously to everyone, folding one arm over his stomach as he did so.  "I'm sorry for keeping everyone.  My apologies."   He said, keeping his expression soft as he rose.  "I'm here in the name of diplomacy, and I'd like to contribute."


End file.
